


Intercepting Paths

by AddictedtoFiction03



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: AU, Betty Cooper & Sweet Pea Friendship, Betty need a tutor, Betty teaches Jughead how to fight, Betty was given up for adoption, Bullying, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fight Club - Freeform, Northside Jughead Jones, Strangers to Lovers, Sweet Pea and Betty live together, colliding of worlds, doesn't know the coopers, jughead lives with the andrews, more than they know, soulmates meets soulmate, southside Betty cooper, swears alot, they need each other, unexpected love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-18
Updated: 2019-09-26
Packaged: 2020-09-06 12:14:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20291290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AddictedtoFiction03/pseuds/AddictedtoFiction03
Summary: Anyone who comes from the southside is a piece of trash. That is what Betty Cooper hears at least three times a day as she walked through the freshly painted halls of Riverdale High. And by the glares being sent her way, they meant it. She fought the urge to roll her eyes as she passed by the cheerleaders who were too giggly for the time of day. She wondered what they put in their coffee because she wanted some of that. Maybe that would help her get out of the hellhole known as Riverdale and their stupid need of cliches. Like the girl next door falling for the football star, getting married, having kids. Something that came out of a Carrie Underwood song. But not her. She wanted out of the town and the grade in her hand was preventing her from doing that. Well, that was about to change because she was tired of failing. She wants to get out of Riverdale and nothing is going to stand in her way. Except maybe Jughead Jones, the loner of Riverdale, is a little bit more than what she bargained for.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello to my new story! Intercepting Paths. Yes, I have many that I need to update and it will happen. I also have other projects in the works that I need to catch up on. 
> 
> Sweet Water Ranch is still happening, just have to plan it out some more!

Chapter One

"The last round begins in five minutes!"

Betty Cooper winced at the loud voice coming through the intercom above her head. She wished that it was the last bell of the night so that she could close up so she could take some painkillers and go to bed. Hoping that it would be enough to chase the throbbing in her temples away. Betty ran a warm rag over the bar wiping away anything that could leave behind a sticky residue and ease the hardened frustration that she had gotten earlier when some drunken idiot tripped over a stool knocking the tray out of her hand sending glasses tumbling down to the counter where they shattered spraying tequila in every direction. Some of the liquid even managed to get on her freshly finished homework. That secured her decision to kick him out of the bar for the night. This pushed the guy over from a fun drink to an angry drunk, which caused her to signal the bouncers that carried him out and tossed him in the street. That made Betty feel a little better watching him land on his ass.

When Betty walked around to her place behind the bar, she saw how much damage her homework endured leaving a lead weight in her stomach. The ink was smudged so mad that she couldn't even make out the words and she worked super hard on this assignment, and you know what...It was due tomorrow! Betty tried to redo as much of the work as she could get in between customers, but it ended up being too busy where she couldn't even glance at it. Betty tossed the rag into the sink and reached up, pulling the elastic band out of her hair, hoping to ease the tension in her head. She sighed in relief as her blonde locks fell to frame her face.

"Cooper, the hair needs to be up!"

Betty looked over her shoulder at the offending statement. "It's almost closing time," she pointed to the clock on the wall. "A few minutes won't hurt!"

"I don't need any lip from you tonight!"

Betty rolled her eyes. "What did you think you were gonna get, Sweet Pea?" She tilted her head at him. 

"You know the rules," Sweet pea pointed to her, stalking over to the counter. "Hair needs to be up at all time during serving hours. If you are not careful, the boss man will find out and write your ass up again. That is the last thing you need. You get another strike, and you will be looking for another job."

Betty breathed through her nose. "I know the rules and the rules also state that serving time ends 30 minutes before the last round, which was about fifteen minutes ago. Also, let me remind you again, you are not my boss."

Sweet Pea sank down into the stool, shaking his head. "I am just trying to look out for you. There are not a lot of options for work in this town. Especially for the ones who live on the other side of the tracks."

Betty closed her eyes, leaning her forearms on the clean counter, enjoying the moment of relaxation. "I know," she said, rubbing her temples. "I have a bad headache."

"There is something else that I want to talk to you about."

"What?"

"What the hell is this?"

The tone in his voice made her eyes pop open, seeing a piece of paper with her name on it right in front of her face. And it was not some ordinary paper. The paper was a test that she took the other day at school. The same test that had a fat F stamped on it a color of an angry red, screaming to her that she had failed the test. The frown that Sweet Pea was wearing made her want to run to her bed and hide until the storm was over. Instead, she snatched it out of his hand. "It's nothing," Betty sighed, putting the test back in her book where she thought it was safe from prying eyes then went over to the sink to start on the dishes.

"That is not nothing," Sweet Pea made his way around the counter until he was standing beside her, staring down at her. "That is an F, Betty."

Betty felt her eyes sting as she heard the disappointment in his voice, but forced them away. "Is that what that is?" she asked, not looking at him, pouring some soap into the hot water. "I know how the alphabet works. I haven't forgotten that part.

"This is not the time to be funny," Sweet Pea narrowed his eyes at her before reaching over to turn the water. "Look at me," he demanded, and Betty turned to him with her arms crossed. "You got an F on your test. That means you are failing. If you are failing, you will not graduate high school. I thought you made me a promise."

"I did."

Sweet Pea snorted. "What was that promise?" he asked her. "I want you to repeat those words. Right here. Right now."

"What are you, my father?" Betty grumbled. 

"No, but I am the closest thing to a family that you got," Sweet Pea reminded her. "Now, stop avoiding the subject and tell me what you promised me that night after your foster parents kicked you to the curb. You do remember why they kicked you out, right?"

"As plain as day. I refused to be their drug delivery person, carting their meth all over the city so that they wouldn't get caught."

Sweet Pea looked puzzled. "I thought you said it was because you kept sneaking out at all odd hours of the night."

"I lied," Betty shrugged. "It was easier to say that than explaining everything that happened in that house. Maybe that is what is wrong with me. I inhaled too many fumes from that house."

"Makes me wonder what else you lied about," Sweet Pea grumbled. "Now, the promise that I am still waiting to hear."

Betty leaned back against the sink, staring out to where she could see the wires of the ring where two men were going at it and the crowd cheering with each good punch. "I promised you that I will finish high school and leave this town without looking back."

"That's right. You said that you will finish high school. With that kind of grade, you are not even gonna get a foot out the door."

"I still have time," Betty scoffed at him. "To turn things around for me. It will be fine."

"Actually, you don't have time. High school will be over before you know it. You think now that you have all the time in the world, but the minutes are ticking away fast. You need to get your grades up, Betty."

"I will try."

Sweet Pea scoffed. "Don't feed me that bullshit. Don't give me that "I don't care" attitude that you give everyone else. You are better than anyone in this town, Betty. You actually have what it takes to leave this dump of a town behind. Why can't you see that? Don't blame your parents, who were dumb enough to leave you in the hands of the state. Show them what they missed out by letting you go."

Betty studied him carefully for a few minutes. "Damn, I never knew that you could go soft. Fangs was right, you are a pitbull on the outside but a teddy bear on the inside."

"I'm serious, Cooper."

"I know you are," Betty turned around, submerging her hands in the scorching water, loving the way the heat warmed up her icy veins like hot cocoa on a snowy day. "It's probably too late for me, anyway. I should just drop out."

Sweet Pea groaned. "No way in hell is that going to happen, and it is not too late. The school year started two weeks ago. You have plenty of time to turn everything around, you just have to do it. Don't drop out like me."

Betty lifted an eyebrow at him. "You make it seem fun," she pointed out to him. "Free to do whatever you want. Don't have to worry about rumors, or sneers being thrown your way. Staying up all hours of the night, beating off to any porn that you can and sleeping in until noon. Well, that is only when you don't have a girl sharing your bed."

"You don't hear me complaining when you have company over."

Betty shook her head. "That is because I don't have anyone to bring home. One night stands may be the way you live your life, but it's not mine. I am not interested in that kind of thing. I like having my bed all to myself with Caramel at my feet."

"Have you ever tried it?"

"No and I don't want to," Betty stated firmly as she tried to think of herself in a romantic situation, and it made her shudder. "Ew...no. Romance and I don't get along. In fact, it makes me sick to my stomach."

And it did. The thought of her in a romantic situation made her stomach lurch. It wasn't something she was into. She remembered reading the Twilight series after she lost a bet with Fangs and all she did was want to burn the books. The loving, the kissing, the sweetening moments were so gross. It was like flossing your teeth with sugar strings that made them rot faster than drinking mountain dew. She didn't understand how anyone could give themselves entirely to another person risking the pain of a broken heart.

"Who said anything about romance?" Sweet Pea asked, smirking. "I am talking about a good romp in the sack. You know riding the dick, like a cowgirl." He started wiggling his eyebrows at her.

Betty held up her hand, grimacing. "I don't want to hear what is in your web browser, Sweet Pea. Or want you to give me advice on how to have sex." She had the urge to go to the bathroom and barf at his words. 

Sweet Pea closed his eyes, shaking his head as if he was trying to rid the images from his mind. "I don't even want to picture you like that," he breathed. "Now, I can't stop thinking about it."

Betty looked at him with wide eyes, fastening her grip around the glass in her hands. "Can we please stop talking about it? Step away from the big ass line you are about to cross and never go near it again."

Sweet Pea ran a hand over his face. "Sorry and agreed. You are like my little sister," he told her.

Betty granted him a fleeting smile. "Thank you, and you are my brother for life. I will try harder to improve my grades," she added.

"No, you will not try to get good grades. You are going to get good grades because you are going to find yourself a tutor as soon as you get to school tomorrow," Sweet Pea said sternly.

Betty blinked as his words sank into her mind. "You can't be serious," she sighed. Her shoulders sagged at the thought of approaching some of the kids at her school. There was not one single soul in the walls of her school that would even agree to help her. Or anyone that she could go to for help. Hell, even the teachers were hesitant to help the students who transferred from Southside High after their school burned down over their summer break.

The summer season had been exceptionally dry to the point where burn bans had been placed on the area to prevent wildfires from happening. One night offered them a momentary relief when the weather pushed thunderstorms through the area fueling the air with an insane amount of electricity that caused a flash of lightning to strike the school which ignited a fire that tore through the building's old foundation until it was a pile of smoldering ashes. This ignited another fire, but with the people without the town boundaries of Riverdale. As the city scrambled to try to figure what would happen with the students that called that building their place of learning. To outsiders, Southside High was an eyesore that would often cast a dark shadow over the sleeping town. Often the center of blame from the people who lived just across the Sweetwater River. If something went wrong, the fingers were always pointed to their doors, but in the end, it was just a high school. That was often forgotten, lost to the attention that was always given to Riverdale High. But to the student of the southside, it was their home.

Southside High offered a way to escape their lousy home lives as many of them lived with drug-riddled families. It gave them a chance to do something with their lives instead of dropping out and following the same footprints left by their parents. The school was actually pretty decent community wise. They were a family that took care of each other until the fire sent them all scattering to neighboring schools until the rebuilding of their new school or if they would even decide on rebuilding it. The question was really up in the air at this point. And that is how Betty landed in the mess that was Riverdale High. A school where everything revolved around the football team who won their third national championship and the River Vixens who housed the bitchiest bitches on the planet.

When it was announced that some of the students were going to Riverdale, people swore that they could hear the Northside singing with their rage that their kids would be mixed up with the thugs of the southside. That it would damage the school's excellent reputation and the students who went to that school treated them that way. And now, Betty needed to find a way to mingle with them. 

"Do it look like I am kidding?" Sweet Pea asked her. "It's either you find yourself a tutor or I will personally go and sit with you in your classes to make sure that you pay attention." Sweet Pea tilted his head, daring to her fight his decision. 

Betty snickered. "You are going to come into Riverdale High, a place that you hate, so you can hold my hand like I am a little girl."

"I will do what I have to do to make sure that you graduate," Sweet Pea stated firmly. "You have until the end of the week to find you a tutor, or I will have a talk with the manager about your job."

"Fine," Betty sighed, throwing a rag at his face. "I will get a tutor tomorrow. Will, that satisfy you, Sweet Pea?"

"Almost. You will have to prove to me that you have a tutor though," Sweet Pea added with a smug grin. "Because I want to meet this tutor face to face."

"Don't you think you are pushing it a little too far?"

"Nope," Sweet Pea shook his head at her. "I know you. You will say that you have a tutor, so I get off your back. But these are the terms that we are facing. Understood?"

Betty let out a slow breath. "Understood," she muttered, placing a glass into a rack and Sweet Pea picked it up carrying it into the back to the dishwasher leaving her alone in her thoughts.

"One more thing."

"What?" Betty looked up from the sink to see Sweet Pea sticking his head through the door.

"No gym time tonight."

"Okay, now you are being an asshole."

"Call me an asshole one more time, and I will make until you bring me a test that has an A on it."

Betty didn't get to respond back as the bell sounded ending the boxing round and by the grin on Sweet Pea's face, he knew that he had won that round. She turned off the water, walking over to the cash register to be ready for the people who would be paying their nightly tabs.


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Betty tries to hold her end of the deal, but it turns out to be harder than she thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all my reviews and kudos!!! They were yummy!!!
> 
> I want to thank my lovely beta! Mieteve_Minijoma. I believe this is the start of a very beautiful friendship!

The next day, Betty was sitting in the back of her chemistry class, listening to the teacher giving a lecture on chemical bonding. He was talking so fast that Betty could barely jot anything down in her notes. No wonder she couldn’t pass anything at this school, everything was rushed. Now Betty Cooper, for the most part, had good grades. She just didn’t let it be known. There were certain subjects where she struggled to keep afloat, such as Chemistry. She didn’t know what the problem was, but she couldn’t grasp it. The terms, the chemical equations, the acid, and bases were all confusing to her. She would spend most of her nights off from the boxing club trying to master this subject, but it always ended with her frustrated with the book flying across the room.

The older man started walking through the rows of students handing out their latest grade. This was the moment that Betty had been dreading. After several long seconds that felt like hours, her paper was placed face down on the table. She slowly lifted her eyes to meet the teacher’s, which held a look of pity and maybe a touch of disappointment, telling her that it was not good. He tapped it with his finger moving onto the next student, and she could feel every eye in the room. Betty bit down on her lip to keep herself from snapping at them that would slam her with detention that these teachers so loved to give.

Betty turned the paper over and opened her eyes to see that she had received an F like she had been expecting, but there was a note requesting that she see the teacher after class. Just great. Just fucking great. She shook her head, wanting nothing more than to tear the fucking paper apart or set it on fire with the matches that were sitting in her pocket. The bell rang, releasing the class from their seats like broken springs, reaching for their things and high tailing it out the door. Betty tried her hardest to blend in with some students long enough to get out of the room, but it wasn’t enough and heard his voice floating through the air.

“Miss. Cooper, just one second.”

Betty sighed at her bad luck, crossing her arms before she turned around to give Mr. Beaker her full attention. He waved at a seat in front of him, telling her to sit down. She fought the urge to roll her eyes as she slid her ass into the chair, resting her messenger back on her leg.

Mr. Beaker studied her for a few tense moments before speaking to her. “Now, Miss Cooper, you do know why I asked you to see me after class, yes?”

Betty held up the paper. “I am sure that it has something to do with this?” she asked him.

“Precisely so.” he nodded. “This is not the only bad grade that you have received in this class, care to tell me why? I understand that you were allowed to be lazy at Southside High, but I won’t have it in this class.”

Betty scoffed as she listened to the man in front of her and held up her hand to stop him from continuing.

“Please do not assume that I am lazy just because I come from Southside High. Do a little bit better than that, because I have stayed up for hours working on our assignments. Did it not cross your mind that I may have a problem understanding the subject? Have you ever heard that song Roots Before Branches?”

Mr. Beaker blinked at her response. He wasn’t expecting that one. He even had the balls to look slightly ashamed, but it quickly faded away. “Is that the truth?”

Betty decided that it was not worth her energy to argue with the teacher and nodded. “Yes, that is the truth. I don’t understand it.”

“Why haven’t you said anything to me? I could have helped you or offered you some extra practice?”

“I wasn’t sure that you would want to help me,” she answered honestly. “I mean, you did just say that I was lazy a few seconds ago.”

“That's because I had no idea what was going on. I am here to teach you, not fail you. If you are failing, that means I am also failing because I am not doing my job, which is making sure you have what you need to know. Teachers can only do so much. We are not mind readers, you have let us know what is going on,” Mr. Beaker explained. “You are not the only student who has struggled with this class.”

“You're only saying this because you feel like an ass for assuming something about me,” Betty said coldly. “Otherwise you would have let me go already.”

Mr. Beaker sighed impatiently. “That was wrong of me, and I am sorry for it. Now, let’s focus on your grade, that is the most important factor here. We can figure out a plan. If it goes any further than this, you may not be able to turn it around. This is what I am going to do; I'm going to give you some extra worksheets. I want you to do them and see me when you are done. You have three weeks until your next test, so you have time to get this right.”

After a few more words with the teacher, Betty headed out into the overcrowded hallway that was in full chatter mode. There were groups of kids gathered around in various places, most of them talking about their days or their homework assignments. There was an occasional swapping of plans that consisted of the only hangout joint in town, Pop’s Chock’ lit Shoppe. 

Hearing the name had her own stomach growling at the thought of some extra cheesy fries with a peanut butter chocolate shake to go with them. She stopped at her locker to grab her books that she needed to take home. When she was finished, she pushed through the crowds once more and saw the Bulldogs. 

The beloved football team that belonged to Riverdale High surrounding their victim of the day. There were so many of them that she couldn’t see into the middle to see the poor soul. Betty felt her fingers begin to curl into hands as she fought the urge to turn around. She held strong hate for bullying. When Southside High was still standing, Betty would often step in whenever she spotted it or if she ever heard of such happenings, Betty would take matters into her own hands. She just couldn’t do it today. Betty had her own problems to fix.

When she got to the library, Betty went over to the front desk where she saw a little old lady, who was quietly knitting together a beautiful looking scarf. She laid her hand down on the counter, startling the poor lady out of her trance. Betty had to stop herself from giggling at the woman gulping in front of her. Did she look that mean? Betty looked down at herself from her black and white plaid shirt, her black skirt, and her black biker shoes. Nothing was terrifying about her.

“Can I help you, Deary?”

Betty looked back up at her and smiled. “I was wondering where the student center is?” she asked her. “Is it Mrs. Eleanor?”

“Yes,” she nodded, reaching for the cane beside her chair as she struggled to get to her feet. “You go down that hall, and it is the second door on your left.” Mrs. Eleanor pointed.

Betty followed her finger and nodded. “Got it and that scarf is a lovely color,” she added.

Mrs. Eleanor softened, shocked at her words. “Thank you! It is a present for my granddaughter. Her birthday is next week,” she gushed.

“She will be so happy when she gets it,” Betty told her kindly. “It’s this way?” she asked again, pointing in the right direction.

“Second door on the left,” Eleanor repeated, sitting back down and picking up the two needles once again.

“Thank you.” Betty walked down the hallway to the second door. Upon entering the room, she found another teacher of Riverdale that she had to battle. Betty had to explain to her why she was there and eventually after much convincing, and she walked out with a slip paper that had the name of her tutor: Jughead Jones. The lady staffing the student help desk told her that she would be able to find him in the office of the Blue and Gold, as their meetings were during this time of day. With a final wave to the sweet old lady, Betty pushed through the doors to find this person.

Betty walked around the school several times, trying to find it. The school was almost empty except for an occasional student who stayed behind for their reasons. Betty was ready to give up the search when she saw a line of students coming from a room just a few feet away from her. She decided to check it out, what would it hurt right? Maybe they could point her in the right direction. She walked over to the opened door, peeking into the occupied space. Betty could see a guy and a girl talking. She leaned up against the wall to wait for them to finish. Betty couldn’t help but watch the exchange between the two, ending in a hug that had the girl bouncing out of the room with an excited smile plastered on her face.

“See you later, Juggie.” Her girly voice floated over her shoulder, Betty watching as she walked with a skip in her step and disappeared around the corner. Betty turned her eyes back to her primary target, whose back was toward the door. He stood up from his chair where he was writing on something. Usually, this would have Betty scrambling for a rock to hide under because she was horrible at introductions, but her future and her job was on the line. Betty pushed off from the wall, knocking lightly on the door as she entered the room.

“Whatever you are looking for, it's not here.”

Betty blinked at his sarcastic tone and looked over her shoulder to make sure there was no else behind her. “And you know this how?”

He let out a tired sigh and rubbed his forehead. “I mean if you are looking to join the paper, all the slots are filled. And if you were serious about a slot, you would have made it to the meeting on time.”

Betty nibbled her lip. “So you assume that whenever anyone talks to you, it’s about the Blue and Gold?”

“Pretty much.” he tossed over his shoulder, stacking some papers and stapled them together. “What else does anyone talk to me about? The weather? Current events? The time? For someone to ask me the time of day, all the clocks in the world would have to be burning.”

“That's a little dramatic, don’t you think?” Betty asked him, walking deeper into the room. Betty looked around, taking in every detail of the office. It was nice. Something Betty had hoped to do with the Red and Black if she weren’t the only one with interest in journalism at her old school. She searched far and wide in the cracks and even tried to make it fun, but no one squealed, and the Red and Black fizzled out of existence.

“Dramatic? It is, but the truth is never simple.”

Betty felt her patience wearing thin and pinched the bridge of her nose. “I hate to burst your bubble, but I am not here for the paper. I'm assuming by the name that girl dropped as she left, that you're Jughead?”

“The one and only,” he replied impatiently, tossing the papers he was handling on to the desk before turning around to face her. “What can I do for you?” he asked, crossing his arms and Betty couldn’t help but zone in on his left eye which was sporting a painful-looking bruise. She could tell by the blackish and purple hues, that it was fresh. She got that experience from working at the boxing club.

“Ouch,” she hissed as she took in his swollen eye. “Nice shiner,” she remarked baldly, causing Jughead to look away from her searching gaze. “Don’t,” she ordered him, placing her finger gently on the left side of his jaw, turning it back so she could look at his eye. “Who did this?” she asked him.

“Don’t worry about it,” Jughead said emotionlessly, pulling away from her and moving around to the other side of the desk to put some space between them. 

“You should put some ice on that before it gets any more swollen,” Betty instructed quickly, pointing over her shoulder. “Let me guess that was you in the middle of that mosh pit out in the hall?”

“Quit asking questions that you will not be getting answers to,” Jughead replied, tapping his foot. “What do you want?”

“That only gave me the answer I needed so that I won’t be asking anymore,” Betty assured him when Jughead stared at her. “It's not that hard to read between the lines you know. I believe that you are my tutor. That is the real reason why I'm here.”

Jughead frowned at her new set of words. “I don’t think so,” he said, shaking his head slowly. “I already received my group for the semester. I believe you are mistaken.”

“This,” Betty held up her little slip with his name on it, “says otherwise. I just came here from the student center,” she explained. “This paper is what was given to me. Ms. Largen, is it? Said that I needed to bring this to you before I left for the day and well, here I am. I can’t do it tonight, though.”

Jughead nodded. “I see. Elizabeth Cooper. Chemistry and Geometry,” he mumbled as he read the paper. “I’m sorry, but I am afraid that I can’t help you.” Jughead held out the article to her.

Betty felt the bubble of hope pop harshly inside her. It was almost painful. “I don’t understand,” she said, and it was true. She felt perplexed. 

“I’m sorry, but I can’t.”

“What? Why?” Betty stumbled to find the words, but they failed on her tongue. This was not supposed to happen. “Is it because I can’t do it tonight? I can make arrangements. Just tell me, and I will do it.”

Jughead dropped his gaze to the ground. “You know why I can’t help you,” he said in a low voice.

Betty frowned, shaking her head. “No, I don’t know why.” She ran her hand over her face as a reason blossomed in her mind. “Don’t tell me it’s because I live on the Southside,” she stated hotly. 

Jughead leaned up against a set of filing cabinets. “I am afraid that's the exact reason,” he gave her an apologetic look. “I’m sorry.”

“That is so fucking unbelievable,” Betty scoffed, looking away from him, anger was raging inside her like hot lava getting ready to erupt from a hidden chamber. “It shouldn’t matter where I come from.”

Jughead nodded his head. “I agree. It shouldn’t matter, but it does if you live in this town,” he mumbled, kicking at something. “ I will find you someone else.”

Betty shook her head. “No, don’t even bother,” she snapped, snatching the piece of paper out of his hand. “I will figure it out myself, and everything will be fine. Because that's what the F stands for right?” she asked him, holding up her latest grade. “Fine?”

Jughead’s shoulders visibly dropped as if someone had placed a two-ton weight on top of them. “You don’t understand. My life here is a living hell, and if they see that I'm tutoring someone from the Southside, it will make it even worse. This here,” he pointed to his eye, “just happened to be a good day.” Betty wanted to press Jughead for more but didn’t get the chance as a voice sounded in the hall, making his face blanch as the footsteps got closer and closer.

“Hey Juggy, are you ready to go?”

Betty watched Jughead walk around her to his desk, quickly gathering his things as Archie Andrews came strolling into the room with a big grin on his face. “Dad wants to meet us at Pop’s before the game, do you want to head over there now?” That smile on his face turned into a deep frown as his brown eyes shifted from Jughead to her. “What are you doing in here?” he asked, his tone full of venom. “Is she bothering you, Jughead?”

Betty glanced at Jughead, who seemed to be frozen. His face was practically unreadable. What could she do to make this easier on him? No, he would not get in trouble for this. She would make sure of that. Betty turned to Archie. “No, I was looking for the Student Center. This school is like a giant corn maze, and I am horrible at directions. He was telling me that it's in the library.”

Archie took a few steps closer to her, a harsh glare present on his face. “Is this true, Jughead?” His eyes never leaving Betty’s face. His horrid breath smelled like gym socks that lost a fight with a skunk. It made her want to hurl.

“That's the truth,” Jughead said, turning to Betty. “As I said, it is in the library. You take a right at the front desk, go down the short hall, it will be the second door-”

“On the left,” Betty finished for him with a gentle nod of her head. “Got it. I better get going before it closes for the day,” she backed up, moving towards the door. “Thank you for  _ everything,  _ Jughead,” she said to Jughead and turned to Archie who was watching her every step. Betty gave him a smile with an extra layer of added sweetness to her lips. “And you need a breath mint.”

Twisting on her heel, Betty walked out of the Blue and Gold, hoping that she did some good for Jughead. The look on his face was ingrained into her mind as she slid on her bike. Once her helmet was secured, she revved the engine and darted off in the direction of the boxing club.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think down below! Thank you for reading! Follow me on tumblr @endlesswriter03 to keep up with my updates and maybe previews of what is coming up next.


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank my wonderful beta @Mieteve Minijoma for looking over this chapter for me! Can't do it without you love!

Chapter three

Several hours later, after the sun had long since set, Betty stood behind the counter of the Southside Boxing Club, writing down a customer’s order. The house was filled to the brim with people who were wanting to watch a good fight. Well, all those who found a game of high school football really dull. 

“Alright,” Betty said, looking up from her order pad. “Let me see if I got this right, three shots of tequila, three shots of whiskey and four shots of gin?” she listed, looking up at her customer.

“That is right,” the man with a giant beard smiled at her. “You looking mighty cute tonight, how about you come home with me?”

“Because I am 16,” Betty snarked at him. “I am not interested, and that would mean jail time for you.”

The guy bent forward. “We wouldn’t have to tell anyone. We’ll keep it a secret just between us,” he proposed.

“Sounds,” Betty started, loving the way the excitement lit up his eyes. “Really unappealing.” And just like that, that gross ass light was gone. “If you want your drinks, I would shut your mouth and move along. People are waiting behind you.”

“Stupid tease,” the man glared at her and Betty tilted her head and batted her eyes at him.

“Bye,” Betty smirked at him and looked over her shoulder. “Toni, did you hear that?” she asked the purple-haired girl who was making drinks as fast as she could. “Here,” she tore off the slip and handed it to her.

“I don’t know how you stand getting hit on by these old men,” Toni grumbled, plucking the paper out of her fingers. “I would have punched him in the face.”

“The urge was there, trust me,” Betty chuckled, “but it’s not worth losing my job over.” Betty turned her attention back to her line, writing down everything as fast as she could until the last order.

“Fangs,” Betty called out, carrying a tray of filled shot glasses. “Take this tray to table number six,” she told him. “When you’re done, flirting please!”

Fangs whipped around glaring at her. “Do you have to scream it out loud?” he asked her, walking over to the bar, taking the tray. 

“I do when I call you, and you don’t answer,” Betty snipped at him. “Maybe next time you can get close enough to her ass to lick it,” she teased.

“That is more action than you get, Blondie,” Fangs shot back at her. “What table again?”

Betty rolled her eyes. “Table six, it is a corner side table. Hurry it up. They should have had their drinks about two minutes ago.”

“Got it,” Fangs nodded, pushing his way through the people standing around talking about God only knows what. Betty worked on making a few hot dogs for an order that wanted onions and hot sauce. 

Betty placed the three dogs on a tray with a pile of napkins and extra sauce packets. She bent down to grab two boxes of candy to add to it. “Sweet Pea, you are up,” she called out, and Sweet Pea appeared ready for action.

“Did you do what we discuss?” Sweet Pea asked her, watching her putting straws on the tray. 

“I did,” Betty nodded. “It is in the works as we speak. Now go, before the food gets cold.” Betty told him the table number, and he was lost in the crowd. 

“I am going to take my break,” Toni said to her left, “before it gets too busy in here again.”

“Go,” Betty waved her hand at her. “I can handle the bar by myself while you are gone. We shouldn’t be getting a rush now that the rounds are starting.”

“Thanks, Betty!” Toni took off her apron and hung it up on the hook before grabbing her purse and went into the back. Betty settled down in her stool, opening up her textbook, getting to work on her homework. It was quiet for a while, so she managed to get half of her history homework done. She had left her chemistry book back at the apartment that she shared with Sweet Pea because she could not look at it without getting angry.

“Hey Betty, can I get two Snake Bites?”

Betty looked up to see an older man wearing a green bandana wrapped around his big head with his graying hair sticking out in little wisps. “Sure thing, Mooney,” she nodded, placing her pencil to mark her place as she got up to fix the drinks. As she started pouring some spiced rum into a drink shaker, movement caught her eye. Betty looked over to see that it was a person who had sat down on a stool at the other end of the bar. This struck her as odd because in the six months that she had been working there, no one ever sat down at the bar. It even caught the eyes of Mooney.

“Do you want me to take care of that?” Mooney pointed his thumb in the stranger’s direction. Betty’s gut told her no, so she went with it. Her gut has yet to let her down.

“No, I got it,” Betty said, pouring pineapple juice into the mix with a scoop of ice and put the lid on. After shaking it several times, Betty poured the green drink into two glasses and handed them over to Mooney.

“Thanks, girly, just add it to my nightly tab,” he said, holding up the drinks, turning around to go back to his table.

Once Mooney was seated and no longer an issue, Betty made her way down to the newcomer. She couldn’t see their face because they were wearing a white sweater with a hood pulled over their head. Her eyes dropped down to the RHS embroidered into the chest pocket on the left. 

It was those three letters that told her that this person was a Northsider. This dialed up her curiosity because she never saw a Northsider place one foot inside of this building. Betty came to a stop in front of them, placing her hands on the counter. “What can I get you?” she asked them, hoping to sound welcoming. Just because the Northsiders were stuck up assholes, didn’t mean she had to be one.

They looked up at the sound of her voice, causing Betty’s jaw to drop as she recognized the face underneath the hood. “Jughead?” 

As his name dropped from her lips, Jughead quickly put a slender finger over his lips. “Shhh,” he said in a low whisper. “Not too loud.”

Betty looked up, scanning her eyes around the room, making sure that no one was watching them. That wouldn’t be good as Northsiders aren’t particularly welcomed with opened arms. She turned her attention back to Jughead. “If you didn’t want to be noticed, maybe you should have left your hoodie behind. I mean it’s like waving a flare at the T-rex in Jurassic Park wishing that it would eat you. Or a stripper standing on the bar waving her giant titties around to gather up all the men for their tips.”

Jughead dropped his finger, and Betty swore that there was a grin dancing just inches from his lips. “From dinosaurs to strippers, huh?” he quirked at her. “How creative.”

Betty shrugged her shoulders. “I am just saying if you don’t want to be noticed, next time don’t come with a shirt that says 'look at me',” she deadpanned. “But seriously, what are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be at a football game?” she asked him. 

“I am,” Jughead answered, looking up over his shoulder before turning back to her. “I can ask you the same question. What are you doing here?”

Betty looked around her place behind the bar. “What does it look like I am doing here? This is where I work? You know to collect the dough so I can eat the next day,” she explained. “Since I kindly answered your question, now you can answer mine.”

Jughead took in a deep breath like he was thinking about what he was going to say. “I am only here because I was following a story lead, and it led me to this place. I don’t want to cause any trouble. I was hoping to come in here without being spotted by someone. It is just a lot to take in,” he sighed, resting his head on his fist. 

Betty stared at him for a few seconds trying to digest what he was telling her. “So let me get this straight, you are here because you are writing a story?” she asked him and looked over the crowded ring where two women were hitting each other with massive punches. “And you chose the busiest night of all nights?”

Jughead shrugged his shoulders. “I didn’t know it was going to be this busy,” he said defensively. “My plan was to come in here, observe, and leave. But the door is blocked by several Serpents so I knew I couldn’t go out that way, so I came over here to wait until it’s clear..”

“I’m not buying it,” Betty scoffed. “If you want to sell beachfront property in Nebraska, you are going to have to talk to someone who is on meth. If you were really looking for a story, which there is none here just a bunch of people who like to bet their money and drink until their asses are floating with beer, you would be coming during the day when it was slow, not when half the area is here.”

“Right,” Jughead scoffed, getting off of his stool. “I forgot that you are so fucking perfect,” he snapped angrily at her. “Forget that I was here, okay?” he turned around, heading for the door.

Betty jerked at the sting of his words that fueled her own anger. “Hey!” she yelled at him, but he didn’t seem to hear her. Betty wanted to chase him down, but by the time she would get out from behind the bar, Jughead would be gone, so she went for the next best thing. Betty looked around for something, settling on the order pad and threw it at him, hitting him straight in the back.

The impact made him turn around to see the booklet lying on the ground in a crumpled mess. Jughead reached down to pick it up and looked at her with wide eyes. “Did you just throw this at me?” he asked her, walking back to the bar. “That wasn’t very nice.”

“Neither was your attitude just a moment ago,” Betty said crossly “It was either that or a knife. Now that I got your attention, follow me,” she pointed to the door at the other end of the bar. 

“Why?”

“Just do what I say, okay?” Betty walked over to the door, pulling on the lock and opened the door. Jughead looked at her like she had grown a second head and a little hesitant. Her annoyed look sliced his face. “Do I have to tell you how a door works?” she sighed. “You walk through it.”

Jughead slowly passed the threshold until he was towering over her. “What are you doing?”

Betty’s eyes widened at the sight of Sweet Pea walking up the aisle, she grabbed Jughead by the arm, pulling him over to the counter, pushing him down until he was sitting on the floor. Betty crouched down next to him. “Stay there until I say so,” she instructed, reaching for the basket of lemons and limes that needed slicing for drinks, Betty stood up and started cutting up a lemon as Sweet Pea stopped just before the bar looking around, his eyes searching for something.

“What are you looking for, Sweet Pea?” Betty asked, throwing some lemon wedges into the container.

“Where did he go?” 

Betty gave him a confused look. “What are you talking about?” she questioned, grabbing another lemon slicing it half then into quarters. The intense citrusy scent burned her nose. She moved on to the limes. “Who?”

“The strange guy and someone told me they were giving you a hard time,” Sweet Pea said, “Said that you were yelling at him. Are you okay?” he asked, all decked out in protective mode with his fists clenched tightly.

“Oh, that guy,” Betty snapped her fingers. “Don’t worry about him. He already left. It was just a misunderstanding is all.”

“Do I need to track him down and kick his ass? Fangs said you looked upset.”

Betty shook her head. “No, I handled it. I don’t need you fighting my battles for me. I am a big girl.”

Sweet Pea reached the bar, crossing his arms. His glowering look told her that he was not pleased. “You know I don’t mind, Betty.”

“I do,” Betty gave him a warm smile. “But not this second. So you can relax your muscles and put them away until next time.” Betty covered her containers with lids, putting them into the mini-fridge under the bar.

“Did you know who he is?”

Betty gulped as she didn’t know how to answer his question. What could she say? Betty felt the weight of Jughead’s eyes on her from where he was sitting. If she said one wrong move or one wrong word, then they both would be fucked. Jughead would have two black and blue eyes instead of one, and she would be out of a job. That situation would not be suitable for either party. Jughead shifted beside her and his shoulder collided with a cabinet door making her wince.

“What was that?” Sweet Pea asked her, his eyes looking toward the sound. 

Betty waved her hand at him. “I just closed the door with my knee. I was looking for something earlier and didn’t close it.” Sweet Pea narrowed his eyes at her suspiciously, and Fangs came running up to them.

“Pea, we need help out the floor,” he said hurriedly. “There is about to be a fight between two guys.”

Sweet Pea pointed his finger at Betty. “This isn’t over,” he warned her. “I will be right back.’ He said as a woman’s scream could be heard, telling them that punches were being thrown. Sweet Pea and Fangs ran toward the sound, and Betty let out a sigh of relief. Thankful for the distraction as she turned to Jughead as he scrambled to his feet.

“Now what?” he asked her. 

Betty could see that Fangs and Sweet Pea were pulling the men apart. “We need to be fast. Follow me,” she said, pushing through the double doors, leading Jughead through the kitchen to the door that opened up to the alley. Betty looked around, searching for Toni, but she was nowhere in sight. Good. “Alright, where is your car?” Betty asked him.

“I don’t have a car,” Jughead answered her.

Betty’s eyes widened. “You walked all the way here? Are you crazy?” she retorted. 

Jughead shrugged his shoulders. “It’s not that far from the tracks, and I needed to clear my head.”

Betty scoffed. “Boy do you have balls. Walking through the Southside is like a death sentence waiting to be unleashed. I would never walk through this area, and I live here. Anyway, just go to the corner, down the stairs. That will take you to the road that goes to Pop’s.”

“Okay,” Jughead nodded, the sound of his footsteps filled the air as he trotted down the alley.

“Jughead.”

Jughead turned around to look back at her. The sweatshirt that he was wearing was swallowing his lean frame like a dress.

“Take that off,” Betty pointed to her shirt, showing him what she meant. 

Jughead held her gaze, smirking. “Are you asking me to strip?” he asked her and clicked his tongue while pulling at his bottom lip. “I don’t usually strip for strangers, Elizabeth.”

His response had her rolling her eyes. “Call me, Betty,” she corrected. “Not Elizabeth.”

Jughead frowned at her. “Why are you called Betty?”

“It’s a long story,” Betty replied. “Why do they call you Jughead?” she asked, turning the question back around to him.

“It’s better than the real thing, trust me,” Jughead said and pointed to over her shoulder. “I better get back before the game ends.”

“Be careful.”

Jughead smiled at her. It was brief, but it was real. “Thanks for the tip and earlier with Archie.”

“No problem,” Betty leaned up against the doorframe as Jughead continued his trek down the alley and Betty watched until he disappeared around the corner. She closed the door behind her, making sure to keep it unlocked for Toni and went to the closet to get a broom and dustpan and ready for when the fight settled. Betty was sure that there would be glass that needed to be swept up as a result.

~~

An hour later, Betty walked out of the fight club to her bike. The September air was fresh and welcoming on her face as she swung her leg to straddle her bike. Once her helmet was secured, Betty pulled out of the almost empty parking lot. As she moved through the streets of the Southside, Betty could feel her body starting to relax as the wind ran through her hair. Like gentle fingers massaging her scalp chasing away the stress of her day. It was enough to make her sleepy. She stopped at a stoplight and looked around her. Even though it was dark, Betty still could see the leaves of the trees were beginning to show their colors. There were peaks of yellows and oranges breaking through the retiring green. The car behind her honked their horn as the light turned green, Betty turned around in her seat, giving them the finger before revving her engine and taking off.

It didn’t take her long to reach the railroad tracks. The sign of Pops waving at her telling her to have a bite to eat. Or was that her stomach working her mind. Either way, Betty couldn’t resist pulling into a spot by the door. She slid off her bike, placing her helmet in the crook of her arm as she walked inside. The moment she entered, Betty was immediately greeted by the owner himself, Pop Tate.

“Betty! I have been wondering about you!” Pop’s jolly voice floated through the diner, warming her instantly.

Betty grinned at him. “You have?” she asked, plopping down onto a stool in front of him. “It was all good, wasn’t it?”

His eyes lit up with mirth. “Of course. I could never think bad about one of my favorite customers,” he replied. “It’s been a while since you been in here.”

Betty nodded her head. “That is true. Only because I am working,” she told him, playing with the salt shaker in front of her.

Pop Tate tutted. “You work way too much. I think I am going to have to talk with Sweet Pea and tell him to cut you some slack. You are still young, and you need to enjoy it while you can.”

“Like Sweet Pea will ever give me slack,” Betty muttered. “Let me know how that talk goes.”

“Sure thing,” Pop Tate chuckled. “What will it be tonight”?

Betty stared at him. “Like you have to ask me. I think you already know the answer,” she teased him lightly.

“Chili cheese fries, extra cheese with a mint chocolate milkshake.”

Betty’s mouth watered as she pictured the food in her mind. “You know me too well,” she sighed, placing her hand on her chest. “But yes, you are correct.”

“I’ll get right on it,” Pop Tate nodded, pushing away from the counter and went into the back, leaving Betty enjoying the quietness. She glanced around until her eyes landed on a lone figure in the back corner of the diner, wearing an all too familiar hoodie. 

Betty shook her head as she got off her stool, heading over to the occupied booth. He didn’t seem to notice her as she got closer. Betty smirked ready to rib him about the sweater as she slid into the seat across from him, but what she saw before her erased the expression away. “What happened to you face?” she asked him, shocked. “You didn’t look like this when you left the club, Jughead?”

Jughead struggled to open his eyes like it was painful for him to move. His face was covered in blood from his nose to his lips. There was a gash on his right cheek below his eye and his forehead just below his hairline. The hoodie he was wearing was tattered like he had fallen into a muddy puddle. Why didn’t she noticed that there was something wrong? The way he was hunched over the table? His fries remain entirely untouched. Betty was not blind. She had seen Jughead around town and in the diner. Normally, he would be scarfing down anything that was placed in front of him.

Jughead said nothing and Betty swallowed going with another question. “Did this happened while you were in the Southside?” she asked him, and he shook his head, his eyes were tired, littered with pain.

Jughead dropped his gaze to the table. “No,” he answered honestly. “Just out there. Behind the building,” he took a sip from his coffee cup, wincing at the liquid burned his lips.

“Were you mugged?”

Jughead placed the mug back on the table. His hand is full of scrapes and scratches. “Let’s just say someone spotted me coming across the tracks as they were leaving,” he said bitterly, his eyes thin and worn.

Betty nibbled on her lip. “Archie did this to you?” Betty knew she was grasping at straws, but she was scrambling to find something to what had happened. And who did this? 

Jughead shook his head again. “No. Archie would never do this,” he pointed to his face. “Archie has been my best friend since we were kids. It was his other group of friends.”

Betty blinked as she realized what he meant. “The bulldogs,” she said disgustedly. “They are assholes. You need to see a doctor,” she scanned his injured face. “You might need stitches.”

“I will be fine in a few days,” Jughead toyed with the coffee cup in front of him. “This isn’t the first time this has happened.”

“How long has this been going on, Jughead?” Betty asked earnestly, “And please, don’t lie.’

“On and off over the last few years. Freshman year they seemed to have taken it up a notch. And now it is every day. It began with just smart remarks tossed my way, and I would ignore them. When I refused to stoop to their level, they started shoving me into the lockers. Or they would pour milk on me, or they would tear up my assignments. They would break into my locker and steal my things. One time they tried to get me to come to one of their parties, but I didn’t go, The next day they jumped me while walking to school which resulted in a broken arm. That was last year,” he mumbled through his broken lips. “It’s like they make it their mission to make my life miserable.”

Betty closed her eyes as she imagined the torment he had to live through daily. It wasn’t right. “Have you said anything to Weatherbee? What does he have to say?”

Jughead scoffed at her words. “That old man doesn’t care about anything but the Bulldogs. I have tried going to him, but it is nothing more than a tiny slap on the wrist. They will stop for a while and start again. Most of the time, it is even worse for saying something. The louder I scream, the harder the punches. Nothing serious will be done when it comes to the precious Bulldogs.”

Betty watched him closely as Jughead let out a long breath. Like it had freed him from the dam that he had been holding together in his chest. “How long have you been keeping that in?” she asked, knowingly.

Jughead looked up at her. His expression was broken. Tiny cracks were slowly slicing away at his soul, leaving behind nothing but their scars. Cold, branding, burning marks that he would bear for the rest of his life. Peeling away until there was nothing left behind. “I don’t know how much more I can take,” he admitted, his voice cracking as his lip wavered.

Betty could see how much this was affecting him. Emotionally, physically, mentally. It hurt her to see him struggling. Betty busied herself, forcing the lump in her throat away by curling her legs underneath her. She pulled off her jacket, laying it beside her. Betty wasn’t going to be leaving anytime soon, so she decided to get comfortable. She was going to stay until she was sure that Jughead was alright and Betty needed to hear some answers. “What about Archie?”

Jughead wiped at his nose, sniffling. “He knows,” he said, his voice thickened through his tears. 

Betty pursed her lips. “Why doesn’t he stop it? Isn’t he in charge of the whole team? The captain?” she asked him.

“Co-captain,” Jughead corrected before lifting his shoulders. “He tries to get them to back off, but it doesn’t matter. They don’t listen to him.”

Betty shook her head, not liking what she was hearing, wondering if he was telling her the truth. “Does he even try to help you?” she questioned him, leaning closer as Pop came out of the back with her order in his hands. She turned her attention back to the broken boy sitting across from her. “This is complete bullshit,” she muttered angrily. “Something needs to be done. You don’t deserve the treatment that they are giving you.”

“Thank you, but I am not a charity case,” he tossed coldly at her. “I don’t need your pity.”

“This isn’t about pity, Jughead,” Betty pointed out to him. “This is about you being a human being. You don’t deserve it. Hell, nobody does…” she trailed off, thinking about their previous conversation. “Why did you come to the ring tonight?” she asked him curiously.

Jughead groaned, rolling his eyes. “I told you why I was there. For a story that I am working on,” he threw his hands up in the air. “How many times do I need to say it?”

“You want to know what I think?” 

“If I said no, would it matter?”

“Not a chance.

“Didn’t think so.”

Betty held back a smile. “I think you came into the club because you need help finding answers. And not answers for a story.” When Jughead didn’t say anything, Betty knew that she was on the right track. “You are tired of being a punching bag.”

“How would you know that? You don’t even know me.”

“Jughead, anyone in your situation would grow tired of it. You are tired of having to look around the corner to see if the coast is clear. Tired of looking over your shoulder, never knowing when they are going to strike like a snake stalking its prey. Basically what I am saying, that you have reached your breaking point and are ready to fight back.”

Jughead let out a huge sigh and Betty knew that she had struck gold. “Okay, you caught me. I am tired of it, but I don’t know how to fight. So I have been coming every week for the past month trying to learn some moves.”

Betty looked at him, surprise filling her emerald eyes. “Really? I have never noticed you there.”

Pop Tate strolled over to the table with a coffee pot in his hand. “Would you like some more, Jug?”

“I am still working on my first cup, Pop. Thanks,” Jughead mumbled, looking away from the older man. Pop Tate frowned, looking at Betty with deep concern in his eyes.

“Can I see your first aid kit and some ice?” Betty mouthed to him.

Pop Tate nodded, setting the pot down and disappeared into the back, leaving the two of them alone. While Betty was waiting for Pop’s to return, she reached for the abandoned basket of cheese fries, pulling it to her. She scooped herself up a couple of fries loaded with cheese and shoved them into her mouth. Savoring the creamy, nutty flavor of the cheese that was good enough to make her eyes close. She couldn’t help but gobble down a few more. Eating one fry was never sufficient.

“You are eating my fries.”

Betty swallowed the deliciousness in her mouth and opened her to look at Jughead. “I know,” she said, picking up a fry to point at him. “You are also letting these beautiful babies get cold and that my friend should be a crime,” she finished her statement by shoving the fry into her mouth. 

“I want those,” he said, leaning forward in his seat. “Give them back, or you will buy me another basket.”

“No,” she snarked, picking up some more fries and putting them in her mouth on purpose. “Mmm,” she hummed, looking through her thick lashes at him. “These are so good. The only thing they’re missing is some chili.”

Jughead’s eyes widened. “Please tell me you are not one of those people who love chili fries. Chili fries are the devil incarnate to food.”

“Chili cheese fries are the food of the Gods,” she informed him, covering the fries with her hand. “Shhh,” she shushed. “Not so loud. The fries don’t like when people argue. They want to be eaten and enjoyed. Also, you will hurt their feelings.”

“And it gets even worse. Chili and cheese don’t go together, and they don’t go together on fries.”

Betty perked an eyebrow up at him. “Says who? Do you have proof of this? If you are a journalist, you have to get your info from somewhere.”

Jughead shook his head. “A journalist never has to reveal his sources either,” he said smugly.

“True,” she pursed her lips, nodding her head. “They are even better when you dip them into ice cream.”

Jughead wore a horrified look on his face. “Please tell me you are joking? Ice cream and fries?” he shuddered, pretending to gag which ended in a wince as the movement disturbed his wounds.

“Don’t knock it until you try it.”

“I will want my fries, though.”

“Then reach over here and take them from me,” she dared him. Jughead’s eyes darken, and for the first time, she noticed how blue his eyes were. Like after a storm clears leaving behind a steel blue sky. The moment was broken by Pop who came back to the table with the items she asked for and went to answer the ringing phone. Betty moved to the other side, ignoring the look of surprise on Jughead’s face as she opened the first aid kit.

“What are you doing?” he asked her, wearily. Clearly, he didn’t trust her, but that was okay. Betty figured that Jughead was one who didn’t trust so easily.

“Fixing your face,” she replied as she sifted through the contents of the old box, pulling out things that were of some use. Betty had to give Pop a silent cheer for keeping this box full of supplies, but then again when you run a diner, you probably had to be prepared for anything.

“You don’t have to do this,” Jughead protested. “I can take care of it when I get home. Isn’t there something better that you would rather be doing?”

“Just shut up and let me do this,” Betty snapped at him. “I don’t see how you could make it home when your eye is nearly closed. Hold that to your eye,” she handed him a makeshift ice pack, nothing but some gauze and some ice. “And don’t move.” 

Betty worked quickly wiping away the blood from his face. She moved gently so she wouldn’t cause him any discomfort. When she was done with that, Betty used some tweezers to pull some pull the tiny bits of gravel out of his gash, sealed it with a butterfly stitch. She applies some ointment to the smaller scratches on his cheeks, When she was finished, Betty pulled back to look at her work, and he looked so much better. There was nothing she could do about the bruises or cuts, they would have to heal on their own, but at least he wasn’t covered in blood.

“How does that feel?” she asked him, tilting his head to the side, making sure that she didn’t miss anything.

“A lot better,” Jughead admitted, touching his bottom lip. “How did you know how to do all that?”

Betty cleared the table of her mess. “I work at a boxing club. Sometimes fights are bloody so I thought it would be best if I learned some basic first aid,” she said, reaching into her bag. She took out a bottle of painkillers that she always kept with her in case she needed it for something. “Take these. This will help the headache that I know you have.”

Jughead looked down the tiny blue oval tablets in her hand hesitantly. “I don’t know. I don’t take drugs.”

“Neither do I. This is just over the counter pain medication. You know Aleve?” Betty assured him, and when Jughead didn’t move. She sighed, popping the pills into her hand, swallowing roughly as she didn’t have her milkshake to wash them down. “See? Safe.”

“How do I know that you aren’t trying to roofie me? I mean you were demanding that I strip for you earlier, maybe you want to take advantage of my body,” Jughead quipped.

Betty narrowed her eyes at him. “Please… you look like you are about to pass out. If I did anything like that to you, it would be illegal. Not my kind of activity. I like my guys willing and able.”

“If I wake up in a ditch somewhere after I take those, I am suing,” Jughead warned, and Betty slid two new pills into his hand. “Wish me luck,” he grumbled, taking them in one gulp that made Betty almost jealous. 

“Will you look at that?” Betty gasped, placing a dramatic hand to her chest. Betty reached out to touch his face. “No fever, sweats or death. It looks like you survived,” she gaped at him. 

“It takes time for them to take effect, you know,” Jughead snorted, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Ow,” he muttered.

“Stop that,” Betty said, pulling his hand away from his face. “Don’t go picking at it or we will have to start over. Are you sure that you don’t want to get checked out? Make sure that nothing is broken?”

“I would be able to tell if I had something that’s broken,” Jughead sighed, turning to her. He picked up his cup of coffee, taking a sip. “I don’t have anything close to that kind of pain.”

“What about a concussion?”

“I don’t have one of those either.”

Betty nodded, eating some more of his fries. “You know I have an idea that could solve both of our problems,” she said after swallowing her food.

Jughead raised an eyebrow at her. “What’s that?” he quipped. Betty could hear the exhaustion in his voice.

Betty pushed the now-empty basket away from her as her eyes fixated on the wall. “What if I taught you how to fight?” she proposed.

“You know how to fight?” Jughead asked her, unable to keep the surprise out of his voice.

“Sure do,” Betty nodded, turning her eyes back to him. “A girl needs to know how to defend herself in this town. You never know what you might meet on your way home.”

“How does this help you?”

Betty nibbled at her bottom lip nervously. “I hope if I help you learn how to fight, then you will help me with my classes. If you are worried about them retaliating against you, we don’t have to meet at school. We can do it at the boxing ring if you’d like or my place. What do you say?” 

A horn honking outside the window had them both jumping in their seat. Jughead sighed as he looked out of the window. “I believe that is my ride home,” he said, turning back to Betty.

Betty hurried up to let him out of the booth. The bell above the door rang as an older man walked into the diner. Betty watched Jughead walk through the aisle until he was standing next to him.

“Hey Fred,” Jughead greeted once he reached the counter where the stranger was exchanging a few words with Pop.

Fred grimaced when he turned to Jughead. “Ouch,” he hissed, taking in Jughead’s injured face. “Again?” he asked him, placing a hand on his shoulder. When Jughead said nothing in return, Fred spoke again. “Ready to go home?”

“More than ever.”

Fred nodded, agreeing. “Let’s get home, and we can put some ice on that lip,” he suggested, turning to take a bag from Pop. “Archie’s been out looking for you. He’s been wondering where you were. He said that you weren’t at the game.”

Betty rolled her eyes at the redhead’s name. She was pretty sure that Archie only used that as an excuse to go to the bulldog’s after-party only to get lost on the highway of cheap booze that ended in a bed with a pair of boobs. Betty turned away from the two men, pulling on her jacket as she was ready to go home as well. Betty pulled her phone out to check the time and saw that she had a missed call from Sweet Pea. He was probably wondering why she wasn’t home yet and would probably be calling again if she wasn’t back any time soon.

“Alright, let’s get out of here,” Fred suggested, walking towards the door. “We both have had a long day.

“Can you give me a second, Fred?”

Betty looked up to see Jughead looking her way and noticed that Fred had followed his gaze. There was an unreadable expression on Fred’s face. A grin of some kind.

“Be a gentleman,” Fred reminded him suddenly, making Betty’s face feel like it was on fire. Did he just say that? “I will be out in the truck,” he said to Jughead, nodding his head in her direction before pushing through the door to go out to his car.

Jughead shook his head as he made his way back to her. “Sorry about that,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “I will make sure to tell him the truth,” he stammered. They stared at each other before bursting into laughter.

Betty couldn’t stop that laugh erupting from her lips. “Don’t worry about it,” she giggled as Fred’s words bounced off the walls in her head. Betty covered her mouth as she tried to contain her laughter. “Make sure that you tell him that you were. You let me eat your fries,” she snickered, taking a deep breath. “So do we have a deal?” Betty asked him, holding her hand out for a shake.

Jughead scanned her face, looking for any clues to resist. “We have a deal,” he sighed, taking her hand into his rather big one.

There in the middle of Pops, the place that separated the north and south by just mere inches stood two people. A boy from the north and a girl from the south sealing a deal as the stars in the sky just above their heads with a handshake that would change everything leading from this moment.

~~

**Author's Note:**

> This was just a Betty chapter to give the feel for this fic. You will see Jughead very soon...Like the next chapter soon! So don't worry, our lovers will meet so so soon.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this and please let me know what you think! 
> 
> Thank you for reading!


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